Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nepal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Pantytec to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Excepter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
Little Man,
Dark Day,
Pantaleimon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Shoche,
Albert Ayler,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Association,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pagans,
The Vogues,
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crash Course in Science,
Donny Hathaway,
John Lydon,
the Normal,
Brand Nubian,
Lalann,
The Techniques,
Joy Division,
In Retrospect,
Von Mondo,
Babytalk,
Bootsy Collins,
Wasted Youth,
Mad Mike,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sam Rivers,
Royal Trux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vladislav Delay,
Janne Schatter,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
Blancmange,
Ohio Players,
The Electric Prunes,
The Happenings,
Gang of Four,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Pierre Henry,
Banda Bassotti,
Infiniti,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.